


Rain

by XxOngakuxX



Series: Smoking Room [1]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, M/M, Parentlock, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 07:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14100072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxOngakuxX/pseuds/XxOngakuxX
Summary: Sherlock's thoughts are consumed with John as the rain comes down on London.





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Rain  
> This fic stands on it's own. This fic has not been beta read. All mistakes are my own.

It was the flashes of light that eventually drew his eye towards the window. It had been raining all day and the weather report had warned that there might be thunderstorms to come later tonight. Seems they wanted to start earlier than they were expected to appear. 

Sherlock stood slowly, setting the book aside and making his way to look out the window, eyes taking in the rain stained road in front of him. The emptiness of the streets, the few cars on the road, and the complete silence that permeated through the streets. Only the rumble of thunder and the pitter-pattering of water on the window. The occasional flash of light breaking through the dark clouds in the sky gave almost an eerie look to the outside world. A separate place from the warmth of the flat inside. 

The stillness of the world around him reminded him, not for the first time, of the lonely nights spent in the flat after his return. The smothering silence and the clear absence of another person was nearly worse than those cold, damp nights locked in a cell as he waited for those that brought him nothing but pain to return. He remembered laying in bed at night, darkness all around him, and the only sounds are those of the cars and distant conversations from those walking by. Now, the flat was filled with rumbles in the distance and the rain on the roof. 

His thoughts went to John, as they always end up returning to, and how much he missed the man. He missed the humming that would fill the flat when John did housework. He miss the way the blue eyes shown, almost glittering like the sun off the sea, when they shared a look. He missed the laugh that consumed everything else when Sherlock muttered a comment only for his benefit. He missed the sound of his voice. The pecking of keys accenting the occasional sip of tea. He missed him. Sherlock missed John. 

He let out a small sigh, the window fogging up just a bit, both from the warmth of the flat and his breath on the cool glass. He reached up his hand, using the sleeve of his dressing gown to wipe away the condensation. He knew it was a fruitless act. The window would fog again and once again cloud his view to the outside world. He resisted leaning his face onto the window to feel the cold through his skin. It would get his curls wet and probably leave a mark on the window from the natural oils on his face. Mrs. Hudson had words with him last time he had left prints on the windows. He’d rather not have he do more work than she already did, despite arguments that she isn’t a landlady. 

He had been so deep in his thoughts, he found himself jumping at the scream coming from behind him. He turned just in time to feel a body slam into his legs. He let out a small ‘oof’ and had to take a step back to keep his balance. He reached down to make sure they weren’t going to fall and his hand found wet skin. 

“Where are your clothes?” Sherlock asked, looking down at the naked toddler clinging to his legs. He looked up to see John standing in the hallway, clothes in his hand and sleeves rolled up. It didn’t matter, though, as his shirt was still wet. 

“She snuck away as I was draining the tub,” John said, leaning against the door jam. He watched them for a moment, Rosie rubbing his face on Sherlock’s trousers and getting them wet. He made his way towards them, pulling his towel off his shoulder and wrapping it around her. “Let’s get you dressed,” he said, handing the clothes over to Sherlock to dress her. He gave a peck on Rosie’s head and then a peck on Sherlock’s cheek before heading off to the kitchen. “Tea, love?” John called out from the kitchen and Sherlock smiled. Yeah. He had missed John, but now everything was as it should be. 


End file.
